A Little Yule Fic
Dec. 12th, 2005 06:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntiemeeshI spent the weekend working on Christmas cards, and the rubber stamp I found inspired this little Yule fic.
The Yule Wizard
Gandalf was confused.
When the Valar had sent him back to Middle-Earth, naked and weary from his battle with the Balrog, he’d made his way to Lothlorien, his mind a bit star-dazzled still but his feet knowing the way.
Galadriel had greeted him serenely, dressed him in warm new robes, fed him well, and handed him a pack before sending him on his way. He was sure that when he’d left Lothlorien, he’d been wearing robes of purest white. He was also fairly sure that he’d been heading for Fangorn forest, in order to unite with his friends and get them moving towards Edoras.
And yet, here he was, wearing robes of richest red, riding in a sleigh pulled by strange flying reindeer. Even as he looked about, trying to orient himself, the sleigh banked and the reindeer went into a steep dive and landed near the crest of a snowy hill crowned by a familiar-looking tree. It was the Party Tree, he realized after a moment, and those lights twinkling down below must be Hobbiton.
Not knowing quite why he did so, Gandalf the Grey, (White?, Red? Yes, red, that was it!) Gandalf the Red took his large knapsack out of the sleigh and approached one of the Bag End chimneys, one that hadn’t even a wisp of smoke wafting out of it.
Acting on a sudden impulse, Gandalf waved his staff and the tiny chimney suddenly trebled in size. Without another thought, he stepped into the opening and slid gracefully down, stepping out of the fireplace into Bag End’s front parlor. Turning about, careful to duck his head so as not to bump against the low ceiling, he faced the mantel, now somehow shrunk once again to hobbit size. Hanging from the mantel were two stocking caps, one large (for a hobbit, anyway) and the other slightly smaller. With a sudden twinkle of his eyes, Gandalf reached into his bag, pulling out several small, brightly wrapped items and carefully dropping them into the stocking caps. A tag, sticking out of the top of the smaller cap read, “Frodo.”
Gandalf paused for a moment, something nagging at the edge of his mind. It was only a moment, though, before he dismissed the niggling feeling of something out of place. Reaching back into his bag, he pulled forth several larger presents which he set on a table festively adorned with pine boughs, holly leaves and winter berries.
As he turned once more towards the mantel, to leave this time, he spied a small glass of milk and a plate overflowing with biscuits and winter-shriveled carrots, along with a propped up note addressed to him.
“Dear Yule Wizard,” the note began, “the biscuits and milk are for you. The carrots are for the reindeer. Happy Yule! Sincerely, Frodo Baggins.”
The old wizard chuckled. In previous years, he’d delivered young Frodo’s gifts to that warren of hobbits at Brandy Hall, and even there, amongst all the chaos of the holiday, Frodo had always remembered to leave a little treat for him. This was the first year he’d included something for the reindeer, though. That must be old Bilbo’s influence.
Satisfied that all was well, Gandalf laid a finger alongside his nose, gave a nod and rose up through the chimney, which had once again magically expanded to fit his size. Handing the carrots to the reindeer, he allowed them a few minutes to munch on their treat before shaking the reins. The Yule Wizard had many stops to make before morning. He smiled with great good humor as the sleigh coursed down the hill to Bagshot Row, thinking of the delight all the younglings would feel upon waking in the morning to find what had been left for them. As he flew away, he couldn’t restrain the cheer that flooded through him and called out merrily, “Happy Yule to all, and to all a good night!”
What a strange dream, Merry thought as he staggered sleepily down the hall to the kitchen. He’d certainly dreamt often enough of the quest, and of various members of the Fellowship, but never in quite such an odd way.
Blinking against unexpected light, he found Pippin already up and making tea when he reached the kitchen.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, Merry,” Pippin said as the older hobbit stood blinking dazedly in the doorway. “I was having the strangest dream. Gandalf was wearing these red robes and was delivering Yule toys. Too much eggnog last night, I suppose.” Pippin shook his head, grimaced, and reached up to grab two mugs.
“Now that’s a funny coincidence,” Merry mumbled, still half asleep. “I dreamt about Gandalf also. Or, well, he looked like Gandalf, except he was wearing strange red robes and he…” Merry paused as Pippin’s words caught up with him.
The two hobbits stared at each other for a moment, before shrugging in hopeless confusion. While Pippin poured the tea, Merry sliced some bread and put that, a crock of butter and a jam jar on a tray. When all was ready, they repaired to the front parlor, where a fire was laid ready.
In the faint light of early morning, the Yule decorations could barely be seen. Merry and Pippin had decided to stay at Crickhollow for Yule this year. Since Frodo had sailed away, earlier that fall, both hobbits had stayed close to home. Pippin’s family had come to Brandy Hall and they would all celebrate together later today with a feast. Accommodations were tight at the Hall, though, and the two cousins had stayed at the cottage rather than taking up space that was desperately needed for traveling family members.
Merry struck a match and lit the fire that was laid ready on the grate. Only as he stepped back did he notice that the stocking caps hanging from the mantel were bulging, with oddly shaped edges pressing against the knitted fabric. Turning wordlessly to Pippin, he found his cousin examining a small table that was filled with brightly wrapped presents. It took only a moment to verify that neither of them had put any of the presents there. Moving slowly, almost afraid to look, Merry picked up a small package with his name on the label.
Carefully removing the wrappings and opening the box, Merry found a pipe inside, delicately carved to look like a running horse, and a bag of pipe weed. There was a note attached, saying simply, “Best wishes, the Yule Wizard.”
Looking up, he saw that Pippin had opened a package as well, a large, heavy box containing several oversized tomes. He also had a brief note wishing him good tidings, from the Yule Wizard.
Later, when they arrived at Brandy Hall, they learned that the Yule Wizard had visited there, as well. Indeed, over the next days and weeks it was learned that the mysterious gift giver had been all over the Shire, although no one had seen him. It wasn’t until several months later that Merry and Pippin learned that Sam had shared their strange dream of Gandalf the Red, that Yule eve. They didn’t speak of it much, but every year thereafter, they each received something from the Yule Wizard, and every year, when they opened these presents, their thoughts drifted to absent friends and they would raise their glasses in cheer, “To Gandalf and Frodo, wherever you are.”
The Yule Wizard
Gandalf was confused.
When the Valar had sent him back to Middle-Earth, naked and weary from his battle with the Balrog, he’d made his way to Lothlorien, his mind a bit star-dazzled still but his feet knowing the way.
Galadriel had greeted him serenely, dressed him in warm new robes, fed him well, and handed him a pack before sending him on his way. He was sure that when he’d left Lothlorien, he’d been wearing robes of purest white. He was also fairly sure that he’d been heading for Fangorn forest, in order to unite with his friends and get them moving towards Edoras.
And yet, here he was, wearing robes of richest red, riding in a sleigh pulled by strange flying reindeer. Even as he looked about, trying to orient himself, the sleigh banked and the reindeer went into a steep dive and landed near the crest of a snowy hill crowned by a familiar-looking tree. It was the Party Tree, he realized after a moment, and those lights twinkling down below must be Hobbiton.
Not knowing quite why he did so, Gandalf the Grey, (White?, Red? Yes, red, that was it!) Gandalf the Red took his large knapsack out of the sleigh and approached one of the Bag End chimneys, one that hadn’t even a wisp of smoke wafting out of it.
Acting on a sudden impulse, Gandalf waved his staff and the tiny chimney suddenly trebled in size. Without another thought, he stepped into the opening and slid gracefully down, stepping out of the fireplace into Bag End’s front parlor. Turning about, careful to duck his head so as not to bump against the low ceiling, he faced the mantel, now somehow shrunk once again to hobbit size. Hanging from the mantel were two stocking caps, one large (for a hobbit, anyway) and the other slightly smaller. With a sudden twinkle of his eyes, Gandalf reached into his bag, pulling out several small, brightly wrapped items and carefully dropping them into the stocking caps. A tag, sticking out of the top of the smaller cap read, “Frodo.”
Gandalf paused for a moment, something nagging at the edge of his mind. It was only a moment, though, before he dismissed the niggling feeling of something out of place. Reaching back into his bag, he pulled forth several larger presents which he set on a table festively adorned with pine boughs, holly leaves and winter berries.
As he turned once more towards the mantel, to leave this time, he spied a small glass of milk and a plate overflowing with biscuits and winter-shriveled carrots, along with a propped up note addressed to him.
“Dear Yule Wizard,” the note began, “the biscuits and milk are for you. The carrots are for the reindeer. Happy Yule! Sincerely, Frodo Baggins.”
The old wizard chuckled. In previous years, he’d delivered young Frodo’s gifts to that warren of hobbits at Brandy Hall, and even there, amongst all the chaos of the holiday, Frodo had always remembered to leave a little treat for him. This was the first year he’d included something for the reindeer, though. That must be old Bilbo’s influence.
Satisfied that all was well, Gandalf laid a finger alongside his nose, gave a nod and rose up through the chimney, which had once again magically expanded to fit his size. Handing the carrots to the reindeer, he allowed them a few minutes to munch on their treat before shaking the reins. The Yule Wizard had many stops to make before morning. He smiled with great good humor as the sleigh coursed down the hill to Bagshot Row, thinking of the delight all the younglings would feel upon waking in the morning to find what had been left for them. As he flew away, he couldn’t restrain the cheer that flooded through him and called out merrily, “Happy Yule to all, and to all a good night!”
What a strange dream, Merry thought as he staggered sleepily down the hall to the kitchen. He’d certainly dreamt often enough of the quest, and of various members of the Fellowship, but never in quite such an odd way.
Blinking against unexpected light, he found Pippin already up and making tea when he reached the kitchen.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, Merry,” Pippin said as the older hobbit stood blinking dazedly in the doorway. “I was having the strangest dream. Gandalf was wearing these red robes and was delivering Yule toys. Too much eggnog last night, I suppose.” Pippin shook his head, grimaced, and reached up to grab two mugs.
“Now that’s a funny coincidence,” Merry mumbled, still half asleep. “I dreamt about Gandalf also. Or, well, he looked like Gandalf, except he was wearing strange red robes and he…” Merry paused as Pippin’s words caught up with him.
The two hobbits stared at each other for a moment, before shrugging in hopeless confusion. While Pippin poured the tea, Merry sliced some bread and put that, a crock of butter and a jam jar on a tray. When all was ready, they repaired to the front parlor, where a fire was laid ready.
In the faint light of early morning, the Yule decorations could barely be seen. Merry and Pippin had decided to stay at Crickhollow for Yule this year. Since Frodo had sailed away, earlier that fall, both hobbits had stayed close to home. Pippin’s family had come to Brandy Hall and they would all celebrate together later today with a feast. Accommodations were tight at the Hall, though, and the two cousins had stayed at the cottage rather than taking up space that was desperately needed for traveling family members.
Merry struck a match and lit the fire that was laid ready on the grate. Only as he stepped back did he notice that the stocking caps hanging from the mantel were bulging, with oddly shaped edges pressing against the knitted fabric. Turning wordlessly to Pippin, he found his cousin examining a small table that was filled with brightly wrapped presents. It took only a moment to verify that neither of them had put any of the presents there. Moving slowly, almost afraid to look, Merry picked up a small package with his name on the label.
Carefully removing the wrappings and opening the box, Merry found a pipe inside, delicately carved to look like a running horse, and a bag of pipe weed. There was a note attached, saying simply, “Best wishes, the Yule Wizard.”
Looking up, he saw that Pippin had opened a package as well, a large, heavy box containing several oversized tomes. He also had a brief note wishing him good tidings, from the Yule Wizard.
Later, when they arrived at Brandy Hall, they learned that the Yule Wizard had visited there, as well. Indeed, over the next days and weeks it was learned that the mysterious gift giver had been all over the Shire, although no one had seen him. It wasn’t until several months later that Merry and Pippin learned that Sam had shared their strange dream of Gandalf the Red, that Yule eve. They didn’t speak of it much, but every year thereafter, they each received something from the Yule Wizard, and every year, when they opened these presents, their thoughts drifted to absent friends and they would raise their glasses in cheer, “To Gandalf and Frodo, wherever you are.”
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Date: 2005-12-12 04:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 04:44 am (UTC)"To all hobbits and those who love them, wherever you are."
:D
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Date: 2005-12-12 03:31 pm (UTC)Thanks. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 04:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 03:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 08:05 am (UTC)They didn’t speak of it much, but every year thereafter, they each received something from the Yule Wizard, and every year, when they opened these presents, their thoughts drifted to absent friends and they would raise their glasses in cheer, “To Gandalf and Frodo, wherever you are.”
That's just lovely. Thank you for this!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-13 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-13 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-16 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-17 05:08 am (UTC)Gandalf the Red... what a great idea!! :)
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Date: 2005-12-19 04:38 am (UTC)I am glad that stamp gave you such a clever idea :)